My Cardboard Balcony

The Clingy Gondolier by Belinda Roddie Play an ode to me on your little red lute, and I'll steer you in my boat that's built for two. I'll sing you a song in my native tongue. I'll match all of your notes, and we'll laugh while we're young. Never mind the smell of the ocean brine. Don't keep track of the time, and remember that you're mine.

I didn’t mind the way the two drunk men exchanged words until the beer started flying from their steins onto each other’s shirts. There was nothing wrong with some light debate or friendly banter; Hell, patrons at my bar had said much worse. But now that the two brats in adult clothing were ready to choke one another with their own neckties, I had had enough. “All right, children!” I barked, slamming one large palm down on the counter. “Either you clean up or you get a time-out!”